Petersons

His eyes locked on the ball, brows furrowed calculating the speed as his feet stepped back, his posture retreating, his grip tightening around the racket. He stepped back, raised his racket, and hit the ball with full speed. It hit the wall and retreated to his opponent as he missed the turn. Aaron smiled with victory on his side; he felt like himself again. Though his victory was short-lived as the phone buried deep in his bag rang. As his opponent walked out with a long face, he searched for the phone and answered.

"Hey, mom," He said.

"Weren't you supposed to take your uncle to the doctors?"

His eyes widened," Crap! I'm on my way,"

He heard her sigh, "Just take a shower there," He raised his eyebrows as the line went dead. He looked down at his shirt, sniffing it, his head jerked back. She was right. He headed for the shower.

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